


Change

by Liv Campbell (perdikitti), William Alexander (zannyvix)



Category: Alpha and Omega - Patricia Briggs, Mercy Thompson Series - Patricia Briggs
Genre: Gen, Spoilers, Werewolves, aspen creek, change ceremony, roses in winter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-07
Updated: 2014-10-07
Packaged: 2018-02-20 07:42:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2420630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/perdikitti/pseuds/Liv%20Campbell, https://archiveofourown.org/users/zannyvix/pseuds/William%20Alexander
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's October of 2008. Werewolves have been out to the public for almost a year and Bran Cornick, the Marrok, is about to Change the first crop of would-be werewolves since humanity has known of their existence. Billy Alexander's young wife is among those who want to try the Change, much to the old wolf's dismay. Cecilia gets an object lesson on what being a werewolf really means when some of the wolves sponsoring a candidate decide to stir up trouble for the Marrok by attacking a member of his pack.</p><p>---Contains MAJOR spoilers for Asil and Kara's story "Roses in Winter" from the Shifting Shadows anthology!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Change

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own anything connected to Patricia Briggs' Mercyverse, I just like to dabble in it. Contains MAJOR spoilers for Asil and Kara's story "Roses in Winter" from the Shifting Shadows anthology! I recommend going and reading the original to get all the background on Asil and Kara, since they're just bit players in my fic.
> 
> I prefer to write my characters in and around events in the canon while changing things as little as possible, and this is the first time I've done so while including events and dialogue from an actual canon story (though from a different character's perspective). Many kudos to Perdikitti, who helped me with the pacing and with Anna's perspective and speaking parts.

**October 2008**

* * *

The Montana cold tried to sink its teeth into his bones as Billy helped his mate navigate the fresh snow piled up before Aspen Creek’s little motel, but it didn’t succeed. Werewolves didn’t feel it nearly so much as their human counterparts. The building huddling in the snow drifts between stands of thick pine, aspen, and fir, was new to him. There had been a hotel in this spot for decades, but it had been a different one the last time Billy had had a need to visit the Marrok’s private domain. The current structure had the look of something from the 1950s, an era when automobile travel had been in its first boom days. Billy thought it was suitably ironic that those touches had reached even such isolated pockets as Aspen Creek.

“There’s not much here, is there?” Cecilia remarked from beside him. Her voice was partially muffled by the layers that bundled her against the weather, though it wasn’t nearly as cold as it would grow when winter truly took hold. Their breaths fogged the air, but it wasn’t frigid enough to make his nostrils stick together when he breathed in. The piney scent filled his lungs, and stirred old memories.

Billy raised his head to take in the other three buildings in the general area. The gas station that also served as the local post office was new like the motel, but only to him. The school and the church looked much as they had on his last visit.

“Aspen Creek’s never been a large town,” he told his wife neutrally. He remembered this place when it had been little more than a trading post. There had still been Salish living here at the time. He wondered if any of the wolves currently in the Marrok’s care could recall those days, aside from Bran and his sons. There were none Billy could think of who still lived with the Marrok Pack. Like himself, they had all moved on or passed away.

“Everyone who lives here is a werewolf?” she asked while he helped her over a snowbank and into the relative shelter of the balcony that overhung the motel’s first floor and allowed access to the rooms on the upper floor.

“No,” Billy told her. “There ain’t much to see from here, but there’re four or five hundred permanent residents hereabouts. The Marrok’s pack numbers less than a hundred of those. Everybody else knows about it, though. If you don’t have a werewolf for a father here, you’ve got a sister or brother, aunt or uncle, or other relative who’s a pack member.” Or you were married to one, he added silently to himself.

Billy wanted with every fiber of his being to get back in the rental SUV they’d gotten at the Missoula airport, tuck his wife in beside him, and drive back to Canada. They were in Aspen Creek because his Cecilia, his beloved mate, insisted she be allowed to try the Change, to become a werewolf like him. Nothing he had said to her had changed her mind.

“And we’re staying here for two weeks?”

The edge of doubt in her voice gave him a little thrill of hope. Cecilia had been born and raised in bustling New Orleans, and lived with him in Calgary for the past five years. She had not come from luxury, but she was used to it now, as well as any number of amenities Aspen Creek sorely lacked. The nearest real grocery stores and restaurants, much less shopping malls, were almost two hundred miles away in Missoula. There were some stores in Troy, which was only about forty miles, but nothing compared to what they had at home.

“Edward and I are,” Billy agreed. “You’ll be staying with the Marrok. Bran likes to keep candidates close before the ceremony.” He hated the enforced separation, but there was no help for it. The Marrok’s word was law. The only reason Cecilia wasn’t there yet was Billy wanted to keep her with him as long as he could before entrusting his mate to Bran’s care. Farther down the row, Edward, his Alpha, stepped out of the motel’s tiny office onto the salted concrete, room key in hand.

“How do people live like this?” Cecilia asked as Billy led her after the Alpha wolf.

He shrugged and followed Edward around to the far side of the motel. “When Bran brought me here it was longhouses and a couple of rough cabins,” he said mildly. Billy didn’t like to talk about his age, and liked reminding his fragile human wife of it even less, but he needed her to truly understand what she wanted to sign up for, _if_ she survived.

Edward unlocked and opened the door of their room without a word. Under normal circumstances, they would have had separate rooms, but Aspen Creek would be filling up with candidates for the Change and their sponsors in short order. The required two week stay was anything but a vacation. It was a last ditch attempt to convince idiotic humans to give up their quest to become wolves.

Billy watched from the doorway while Cecilia inspected the room. It wasn’t large, just big enough for a pair of full beds, a small formica topped table with four chairs, a desk he would dwarf if he attempted to use it, and a tiny kitchenette with a two-burner stove and a mini fridge that might hold a six pack if they were lucky. There was no closet, just a recessed area with a bar run across it and a few hangers for coats or shirts. The closed door led to a small but functional bathroom. He would need to bring up the luggage shortly, but Billy was loath to leave his wife alone, even for a few minutes.

The Alpha had taken the desk, already working on his laptop. Cecilia sat on one of the beds, and Billy heard the springs creak under her. “Two weeks, huh?” she murmured. “It’s been almost a year since I decided to try the Change. I can wait two more weeks. Will you two be all right here by yourselves?”

Billy pressed his forehead against the doorjamb and groaned. “You’re killin’ me, darlin’.”

His wife shot him a cross look. “Don’t start with me,” Cecilia warned him. “I’m not fighting with you about this again.”

Billy’s wolf let him know in no uncertain terms that their mate’s stubbornness upset it. He agreed wholeheartedly, and swallowed back his other half’s displeasure. Letting the beast out to play just to scare Cecilia wasn’t fair, no matter that he would never hurt her. No matter that he wanted to do it just to protect her from herself.

“Billy,” Edward spoke without raising his voice or looking away from his laptop’s screen. “Go get the bags, and then take Cecilia to the Marrok’s home.”

He went, taking his unhappiness with him and hoping the cold air would help clear his head. Billy half hoped he might run across some lesser wolf he could snap at and vent his frustration, though he knew such thoughts were uncharitable and beneath him. There were few wolves, even in the Marrok’s pack, who could stand up to him, and those few whom he knew outranked him were not likely to wander by the motel. The Moor was one such, but rumor had it the old, old wolf avoided most people these days. That was fine by Billy. The Marrok had once told him it had been the Moor who drove Billy’s own father from Spanish shores to seek out a life in the New World instead. That had been centuries ago, but Billy had no idea if his father’s old enemy still harbored a grudge. He had enough on his plate without poking that sleeping dragon.

There were more vehicles pulling in to park before the motel, bringing more candidates and their sponsors when he stopped to retrieve the luggage, careful to keep it out of the snow. Billy tamped down hard on his wolf’s temper to keep from lashing out when the Alpha of a pack from Maryland whom he knew only vaguely cut him off, slaloming his rear-wheel drive sports car roughly into a parking space. It still put a snarl on Billy’s face, but he backed up and went around the idiot rather than challenging him right there in the parking lot. Bran frowned on such things, and Billy had no desire to take over the moron’s pack by default because he couldn’t control his own temper and keep from eating the hapless Alpha. If the other wolf was fool enough to risk a sports car in Montana snow, he deserved his own fate. It was something of a miracle he’d even gotten the vehicle to Aspen Creek in the first place.

Growling under his breath, Billy stomped back toward the sheltered part of the walkway, his and Edward’s baggage in hand. Cecilia’s stayed in the car until he dropped her off at Bran’s house. At least his Alpha trusted him to do that much without a babysitter. If this was how it started, it was going to be a very long two weeks.

* * *

 

The water was still cold when Anna dove into the shower, but the chill that would have left her shivering only a handful of years ago made her wolf frolic. Her wolf had been torn between a desire to go out and play in the fresh fallen snow, or stay in and cuddle. Their mate had been open to either idea right up until they heard his father’s car pull into the drive. Then Charles had gotten that expression, the tightening of skin around the eyes, that told her Bran was talking in his head. When he did not immediately relay whatever the Marrok had told him, Anna had slipped off to clean up instead. Whatever his father wanted, it could wait until after she was up and dressed.

Running water kept her from hearing their conversation at least until she finished her shower and turned off the tap, but Anna hadn’t fully closed the bathroom door, and wolf ears were sharp. Even in werewolf society, it wasn’t considered polite to openly eavesdrop, so she pretended not to hear the voices that carried to her. She just didn’t pretend very hard. Whether they realized it or not, Charles and the Marrok both needed her help. Things had been getting harder on both of them since they had gone public with the existence of werewolves.

“The Bow River pack will also bear watching,” she heard Bran murmur. “The second’s mate wants to try the Change.”

“Old wolves always bear watching,” Charles replied. “You think Billy will start something?”

Bow River meant Calgary, their closest neighbors to the north. She hadn’t met any of the wolves from that pack, but Charles had said once, after much prodding, that she would like them. That was good enough for her.

There was a pause, as if Bran were considering. “On his own, I would say no, but he is as wrapped up in his woman and close to the edge as I’ve ever seen him.”

“How long have they been married now?”

“Five years,” Bran said. “Six this coming January.” Bran’s ability to recite personal data about seemingly every wolf from every pack in North America was always a little spooky to everyone else. It didn’t bother her the way it did the rest of the pack. He was the Marrok. It was just who and what he was. Anna took her time drying off and reached for her clothes.

“Not long,” Charles commented.

“Edward can keep him in hand if need be,” Bran continued. “Though it would be better if Billy’s mate put off trying the Change for a less unsettled time. An upset in Calgary now could be problematic.”

“And you’re hoping one of these days Billy will grow tired of playing second fiddle to Edward and consent to take over a pack of his own,” her mate said. The Calgary pack had made waves of some kind at the gathering of the Alphas a year ago, and she’d coaxed Charles into telling her the story. Billy was the pack’s second, Bran had mentioned. That usually meant a nasty temper and a dour disposition. Charles was the only pack second she’d ever known whose temper hid a bone-deep sweetness.

“He’s strong enough,” Bran replied. “But strength alone isn’t enough without stability.”

“You think he’ll spiral if she doesn’t make it,” Charles said. It wasn’t a question, and her mate was right. Dominant wolves who lost their mates, or thought they would… A shiver that had nothing to do with the cold slid down Anna’s spine, and she burrowed deep into the sweater she’d borrowed from Charles’ chest of drawers. She would never forget what her first Alpha had done to save his mate from death. Anna was living proof of how far old, dominant wolves would go.

“It wouldn’t be the first time a wolf gave up the will to live pining for his lost mate.” The Marrok’s voice was mild, but there was a note of subtext to it. Bran spoke from experience. Anna took a deep breath. The Marrok’s subdued melancholy was a healthier thing to focus on than anything Leo had done. “I would rather not lose Billy that way if it can be avoided.”

“I’ll keep an eye on him,” her mate promised.

“Good. Now, concerning the Alaska problem…”

Anna quietly considered what she’d overheard while she finished dressing. Her husband was incredibly skilled at many things, but Charles was about the last person to be putting an edgy wolf worried about potentially losing his mate at ease. Now, _she_ could make a difference. Charles wouldn’t like it, but he would understand, and grudgingly accept she was right in the end as he always did. There were some benefits to being Omega, outside the pack structure. Not even the Marrok could make her sit and stay when she didn’t want to, and Anna rarely sat still when she could help. They just weren’t used to asking. Alphas were used to being a hammer and seeing every problem as a nail, and they didn’t take direction. She would just have to show them the error of their ways.

She left the bathroom fully dressed, and wandered into the main part of the house. The tone of conversation didn’t change when Anna emerged, though she felt Charles’ gaze flick to her, and the warmth of his regard. Her wolf rewarded her with a surge of smugness that they could so easily distract him even from his father’s pressing business. Anna gave him a cheery wave and declined to interrupt. Instead she grabbed her coat and slipped out the door as if she were simply going for a walk. In truth, that was her only intent, though if her travels happened to bring her in touch with Bran’s problem wolf, so much the better. Aspen Creek was a small town, even with nearly a hundred strangers flooding in for the Changing ceremony in less than two weeks, and werewolves gossiped like old women. It wouldn’t be difficult to track down the wolves from Calgary.

* * *

 

Cecilia wrinkled her nose at the gas station’s tiny refrigerated case of sandwiches and salads, and wondered privately if she would care what sort of food was available when she was a wolf. The egg salad looked like it might crawl away all on its own. Staying at the Marrok’s home and away from her husband had been an odd experience, though she understood the reasons for the separation. Still, it was nice to get a chance to check on him, even if just for the duration of a meal. Cecilia was more worried about Billy than herself. He had never liked the idea of her trying the Change, and being so close to the appointed time only made him worse. She settled on a ham and cheese sub, deciding there wasn’t much you could do to screw up ham and cheese. Behind her, Billy rumbled like an angry thundercloud. A stranger who had been refilling his drink at the soda fountain edged cautiously away from them, prompting Cecilia to turn on her husband with a frown.

“Stop that,” she told him, resisting the temptation to wave the sandwich in his face. It wasn’t a good idea to point things at grouchy werewolves, and she just wanted to have a nice lunch with him. If she threatened him with it, he would just swat it out of her hand, and that would bring Edward inside from the car. The Alpha had declined to join them, but was waiting to take her back to Bran’s house when they finished.

“Stop what?” Billy demanded.

“You’re scaring people.” She pushed past him to pick a drink from among the sodas and juices. The cold air that blasted out when she opened the glass door was still warmer than the air outside. “Didn’t Edward tell you not to do that?”

“Yes.” The word was short and just shy of belligerent. That worried Cecilia more than she cared to admit. The last thing any of them needed was Billy deciding that challenging his Alpha might convince her not to try the Change. Even for the short duration of this outing, he had refused to let her out of his sight. She couldn’t go anywhere without her husband lurking and looming just over her shoulder, glowering at anyone who might try to approach them.

“So stop it.” She kept her voice light as she turned toward the register to pay for her food. “Eat something.”

“Ain’t hungry,” he grumped back. Cecilia didn’t have to be a wolf to hear the lie in his words. Werewolves were always hungry, and food helped with concentration and control. She went back to the sandwich case for two more subs to ply her fool husband with once he calmed down enough to realize he couldn’t neglect to eat just because he was angry with her. The cashier was a fresh faced teenager whom she assumed was human, since he lacked the usual wolf posturing she associated with members of Billy’s pack. He rang her up, counted out the change, and tried to eyeball her husband without looking like he was keeping an eye on the angry werewolf in the room. They were just lucky none of the other visiting wolves had wandered in as well. Even cooped up in the Marrok’s rambling mountain manor, she had noticed the tension levels in this flyspeck town had reached near epic proportions.

“Let’s just go sit,” Cecilia offered, gesturing toward the far corner of the gas station past the post office counter where someone had set up a couple small folding tables and chairs to serve as a little eating area. If she could get him sitting with his back to a wall where he could watch the door, he might actually regain some of his cool. Without waiting for Billy to make up his mind, Cecilia walked briskly to the nearest table. She could hear him rumbling under his breath as he stalked after her. She deliberately took the seat that put her back to the rest of the store, because otherwise Billy would just stand over her while she ate, and ignored her husband while she set about calmly unwrapping the white paper around her sandwich.

Behind her, the little bell over the door tinkled merrily and let in a gust of snow laden wind as someone entered the gas station. Cecilia concentrated on her food, and Billy slumped unhappily into the seat across from her with careless grace, not trying to hide what he was. It hurt to know he was so upset, but she was adamant in her decision. She had even met with the Marrok yesterday to discuss it. Cecilia had thought Billy would have a fit over the report she had brought along to show Bran, complete with statistics that showed it would be better to try now while she was still relatively young and healthy rather than wait a decade or two to try the Change. They might be werewolves, but none of them had done the sort of in-depth study on themselves Cecilia had. She wasn’t sure whether or not he had appreciated her research. The Marrok was difficult to read at the best of times, but he had not spoken unkindly to her when asking her reasons for wanting the Change.

She had just finished her second mouthful of sandwich when Billy perked up, his attention fixing on someone over her shoulder. Cecilia chewed hastily, hurrying to swallow in case she needed to get out of the way quickly. She knew from experience that she couldn’t stop Billy if he went after someone, but she could avoid the worst of the carnage if she was quick enough. He looked alert, not homicidal, though that could change like the flip of a switch with wolves. She took a risk and glanced in the direction of his gaze. The girl at the counter looked younger than Liv, the Calgary pack’s newest accidental addition, and nowhere near as stubborn, with a riot of freckles and whiskey-colored curls to match.

“What is it?” Cecilia asked cautiously. Her husband had tilted his head to the side, his gaze locked on the young woman like a dog trying to focus on a puzzling sound. The girl turned with a styrofoam cup braced between her hands and flashed a sunny smile. The tension that had gripped her husband’s shoulders for the last year eased away like melting snow.

“I don’t… Know.” Billy sounded momentarily confused, and then shook himself. When he blinked his eyes were their normal shade, closer to hazel than the cat-green of his wolf. Cecilia only realized then that she had been seeing a lot more of the wolf peering out of his eyes than was really healthy. It was harder to spot the eyes changing on Billy, whose gaze just went from green to greener rather than turning gold or ice blue like other wolves.

“Are you okay?” she asked. He wasn’t looking at her. Billy’s focus was still on the strange girl. It was almost enough to stir the beginnings of something like jealousy. Cecilia had never seen him react to anyone like that, much less a stranger. “You know her?” If the other woman was a wolf, she would hear anything Cecilia said, but there was no help for it.

Billy only shook his head wordlessly. When he spoke again, his voice was low, almost reverent. “I don’t know her, but I know who she is. Charles’ Anna. Omega. Wolf-tamer. I’d heard the rumors, but I didn’t believe it could be true.”

Cecilia raised a brow at her husband. It wasn’t polite to talk about other women in tones like that in front of your wife, but werewolves were weird.

“It’s okay,” the girl spoke up. “I get this all the time.” The boy at the cash register turned bright red when she thanked him and walked to their table. “I’m Anna Cornick.”

“Charles’ mate.” Billy rose to greet her, an old fashioned gesture he still used. He was still staring at her, though a flush rose in his tawny complexion when Cecilia cleared her throat. “Sorry. I’m Billy Alexander, Bow River pack second. This is my mate, my wife Cecilia.”

Cecilia forgave him a little for making that distinction. He was acting oddly, but she knew Billy well enough to realize his fixation on the strange woman wasn’t sexual. It was something else, something wolfy. Anna took Billy’s hand and shook it firmly, then offered the same to Cecilia with a wry little smile. “Sorry. It’s just this--thing that happens around werewolves. It’s worse the more dominant they are.”

“And here I thought I’d seen all the strange things a wolf pack could throw at me,” Cecilia replied. She found herself liking the other woman a little better for her explanation. “It’s an… An Omega thing? I’d love to hear about it. Would you like to join us? I’m not sure Billy will sit back down unless you do.”

Anna grinned for just a moment, enough to reveal a flash of dimple. “All right, but you better not ask me that once you’re Changed. That’s what you’re here for, right? The Change?”

“That’s right,” Cecilia agreed. She saw anxiety flicker through her husband’s eyes again, though not so strongly as it had before. He grabbed a chair from the other table so that Anna could sit with them. The young-looking werewolf slouched into it like a teenager in one of the courses Cecilia had taught, not the graceful predators she had grown accustomed to.

“You don’t have to do this, darlin’,” Billy told her. “Truly, you don’t. You know I love you, no matter what. Why risk your life on it?”

It hurt most when he went reasonable on her like that. Somehow it was easier when he yelled and stomped. “Because some things are worth the risk,” Cecilia replied.

“Like the man you love,” Anna interrupted, a small smile playing over her face.

“Exactly,” Cecilia agreed.

Billy made a face at her. “You ain’t gonna lose me just cuz you ain’t a wolf, darlin’.”

“That isn’t the point,” Cecilia told him. “This way I get to keep you forever.”

“Unless you don’t make it,” he replied. It was a rehash of the argument they’d had again and again since she decided to try.

“I’ll make it.” And if for some unlikely reason she was wrong, she’d just make sure she haunted him to the end of his days instead. Either way, Cecilia had no intention of giving up.

“That’s hardly a constructive attitude.” Anna reached over and patted Billy’s hand. “How do you expect to stay positive with thoughts like that?”

“Miss Anna…” Billy shook his head. “Maybe it’s just I’ve seen too many folks step up to try the Change, and not come back from it. Outta a room fulla people, I was the only one who survived it when I was attacked.”

The girl cocked her head and just looked at him for a moment. She had big, sorrowful eyes, the kind of thing Cecilia had seen the pack trip over a thousand times before. It was always the frail ones that made the big, bad werewolves squirm. “I’m so sorry,” Anna murmured, squeezing his hand. “I know how much that hurts.”

He sucked in a breath, and looked away. Cecilia’s brows shot up. Eye contact was a huge part of werewolf dominance, and Billy had just broken first with a slip of a girl. Granted, she knew Charles was the more dominant wolf, and Anna as Charles’ mate would hold the same position, but it was still odd to witness.

“It’s all right.”

“It ain’t, but it was a long time ago, now.” There wasn’t any heat in his words. Cecilia had heard the story of Billy’s Change before, but it wasn’t something he willingly shared. That was what surprised her the most when he continued, particularly when his accent changed, dipping into the Spanish vowels he almost always avoided. “ _Mi padre_ was a wolf, a very bad wolf. He decided to try to Change us all, his own children, to have a pack bound to him by blood and magic both. My brothers and sisters… I was the youngest. He wiped my entire family out before Bran killed him.”

“Your father took the choice from you.” Anna had a soft, sweet voice, but there was a thread of steel there. “The Marrok provides justice for all of us.”

“The Marrok means we don’t have to fear another wolf like the Spaniard, or like the Beast of Gevaudan on these shores,” Billy agreed. “Bran’s pack took me in a newly Changed stripeling when another Alpha might’ve put me down as too troublesome to deal with. But you’re right, I didn’t have a choice, and I can’t fathom anyone _deciding_ to live as we do…” Billy trailed off, a puzzled expression crossing his face. “‘Scuse me, Miss Anna. I ain’t usually one to ramble on like this,” he said, the drawl creeping back into his words.

Anna smiled into her cup and lowered it to the table, leaving behind a thin line of marshmallow foam on her lip. “That’s all right, I understand.” She cocked her head slightly to the side. “It must matter to you, then, making sure your pack has the freedom to live as they please, to make their own choices.”

“‘Course it matters,” he replied instantly. Cecilia knew there were members of the Bow River pack who were children or relatives of old pack members, and Billy had never argued this hard against their trying the Change.

Anna wiped the foam off her lip and smiled. “Especially where your mate is concerned.”

He looked down again. “Yes. I don’t want to… I _can’t_ lose Cecilia.”

“We had a scare last year,” Cecilia added. “The pack had just found a newly Changed wolf, and their Alpha hadn’t had a chance to bind her yet. She lost control and I got a little chewed up, but not badly enough to Change me, too.” She pulled up the sleeve of her coat to show the scars on her arm, pink, shiny marks against her dark skin. “It was an accident, though. She didn’t mean it, but it was a pointed reminder of how fragile I am compared to the pack. What if one of them slipped in a moment of temper and hurt or killed me? Then Billy would react, and the whole thing would snowball. No, I want this. I need to do this.”

“It’s horrible,” Anna said quietly, looking down into her cocoa. “You’re certain?”

Cecilia closed her eyes for a moment, remembering the thrill of terror she had felt when Liv’s teeth sank into her flesh. “I’m aware of what I’m getting into. I know it’s going to hurt, probably worse than anything I’ve ever experienced before, but like I said,” she added fiercely, opening her eyes to meet her husband’s gaze. “Some things are worth it. I am too stubborn to, too invested in this, to just roll over and die because getting to keep you forever involves something hard and painful and horrible.”

She looked at Billy for a moment. “I would have chosen the same, if I had known Charles before I was a wolf.”

Billy glanced at Anna. “You’re tellin’ me I ain’t bein’ very fair to her, aren’t you?” he said with a sigh. It made Cecilia like the other woman even more. She wished the Bow River pack had someone like Anna, who could get even stubborn old wolves like Billy to see sense without resorting to property damage.

“Oh, I would never say that,” Anna answered slyly, sipping her cocoa. “But since you brought it up…”

He made a wry face, let out a breath, and reached for Cecilia’s hand. “I’m sorry, darlin’. I let my worries get the better of me.”

“Yes, you did,” Cecilia replied, smirking at him.

“You’re stuck here for quite awhile before the Change ceremony. Perhaps the two of you would join us for dinner,” Anna offered.

Cecilia felt her husband go stiff an instant before Anna asked. “Were you going to ask me, first?” a man rumbled from the door.

Anna sighed. “No, because you’ve been a grump lately.”

“I wouldn’t want to intrude on your territory,” Billy said, his words and expression gone carefully neutral.

“Too late,” Charles replied. Cecilia had met Bran Cornick’s younger son before, and had always been struck by the contained violence that seemed to exude from his form. Like Billy, he was half Native American, but the similarities ended there. Charles was like her husband made larger, scarier, and far more dangerous.

“Charles Cornick, we have talked about this,” Anna chided. “You agreed that we could experiment with guests, remember?”

The wolf at the door didn’t move an inch. “I thought you meant my da or Sage.”

“We had your father over last week, it was lovely. How’s seven?” Anna asked.

“Anna.”

The freckled wolf sat up straight in her chair. “Now you see here, mister. I made a bet with your brother that I could teach you manners by Christmas. You wouldn’t ask me to lose a bet to Samuel, would you?”

Charles sighed.

Billy blinked, and Cecilia hadn’t seen him look so off balance since the Marrok showed up out of nowhere to play at their wedding.

“Seven sounds great,” Cecilia volunteered, suspecting her husband was currently incapable of speaking. “If it’s allowed, that is. I’m staying with the other candidates at the Marrok’s house right now.”

“Wonderful!” Anna hopped up out of her chair. “And it’s fine. I’ll talk to Bran if there are any concerns. Have Billy pick you up and bring you over this evening. It was lovely to meet you both.”

Cecilia clasped the other woman’s hand in farewell. “Likewise,” she agreed, trying not to consider the implications of Anna rearranging the Marrok’s schedule to suit her desires. “We’ll be there.” She watched as the young woman wound her way through the store and tucked herself up against the huge Native man’s side. Billy wasn’t small, but Charles had both height and breadth in the shoulders on him.

“Did you come all this way just to walk me home, Charles? You’re such a romantic,” she said as the door swung shut on the other wolf’s half-rumbled reply.

Billy stared after them, a dumbfounded expression on his face. “Charles. Romantic. Never thought I’d see the day.”

Cecilia pushed one of the spare sandwiches at him. “She seemed nice,” she said instead of telling him to eat. She didn’t know how long the Omega wolf’s calming effect would last on him, but she didn’t want to break the spell.

“Uh huh.” Billy seemed dazed.

Cecilia had finished half her sandwich before Edward came in and joined them at the table, stopping to get himself a foam cup of coffee first. “Eat, Billy,” the Alpha said mildly, claiming the third sandwich for himself. Only then did her husband mechanically unwrap the paper and consume the food. It was odd seeing him reduced to meekness. Cecilia had never seen him react to any other wolf the way he reacted to Charles and Bran. It made her wonder if accepting Anna’s invitation to dinner had been the right thing to do, but the other woman had seemed genuine and sincere. Even if the boys were uncomfortable, she didn’t think spending more time around Anna would be a bad thing. If that was the worst thing she had to endure until the Changing ceremony, they ought to be just fine.

 

* * *

 

Being back in Aspen Creek was always a surreal experience for Billy. It had not been home for him in over a century, and though the shape of the land had not changed, everything else had. It only emphasized the feelings that he was a man out of time. That would have made almost any visit uncomfortable to begin with, but coupling it with his mate’s desire to participate in the Change turned it almost unbearable.

The one spot of light thus far had been meeting Anna. Billy had never encountered an Omega wolf before, never felt what it was like to sit in the presence of one. He had been lauded for his patience and ability to control his temper, but that was like saying that among a bundle of fireworks, his fuse was longer than the rest. In the end, he still exploded just like every other werewolf when pushed too far. Anna’s presence was like a healing balm. The Omega took away the need for violence and let the wolf rest. Billy had fair forgotten what it was like to live without the wolf’s constant awareness gnawing at him. His might be a little more tolerant than most dominants, but it never just curled up and went to sleep like a puppy by the fireside.

Sharing a meal with his Cecilia, and Anna and Charles had been surprisingly uncomplicated, and Billy suspected it was Anna who made it so. It did not surprise him that she befriended Cecilia, but even Charles seemed more at ease than Billy had ever seen him. He wasn’t precisely friendly, but nor was he stiff and forbidding with his every move telegraphing disapproval. Billy behaved, and didn’t try to argue with his mate over her impending Change. Dinner went pleasantly enough, though he was glad to leave Charles’ territory when it concluded. Billy had always gone out of his way to avoid the older wolf’s notice when possible, even when he had been little more than a pup himself.

There was less than a week to go until the ceremony, and he didn’t want to spend time fighting anymore, particularly since he had had to return her to Bran’s house after the meal was over. The Marrok had been polite, but more or less told Billy to make himself scarce until the appointed time. That hurt, but he understood the need to keep the candidates apart from their sponsors for a while so Bran could get a true judge of their mettle. That was harder to do with their loved ones hanging anxiously over their shoulders.

So it was a surprise to him when just past midday, four days before the Changing ceremony, Billy felt Bran’s summons like an irresistible tug in his head. He looked up and met his Alpha’s eyes, and needed no words to understand that Edward felt it, too. Nor was it limited to the two of them. They might not be directly part of the Marrok pack, but all the wolves in North America paid homage to Bran, and those at the top of their packs felt that bond most strongly, especially when they were in close proximity. Billy could hear others stirring through the inadequate insulation separating the motel rooms. Bran was calling them in, which meant something had happened, or was happening.

The tension continued to thicken as Edward drove them up the narrow, winding road to the Marrok’s house. There were other vehicles following the same track, emphasizing that Bran had called in most of the wolves present in Aspen Creek, pack and visitors alike. They did not stop at the house, but continued past it on a road that led to a large pole barn behind it. That was new to Billy, and the weathering on the construction put it at maybe three or four decades old. This was where the ceremony would take place, but that was a few days off, yet. Bran savaged the initiates before the last full moon of October, and those who survived and recovered would go on the First Hunt a few days afterward. It couldn’t be now. It was too early!

“Be calm,” Edward murmured from the driver’s seat, and Billy closed his eyes and concentrated on breathing for the minute it took for his Alpha to find a parking space. Edward was right. Whatever Bran wanted the wolves present for, having a meltdown now wouldn’t help. Billy didn’t get out of the rental until he had a firm leash on his other self. Edward gave him a nod of satisfaction, and the two of them joined the trickle of others trudging through the deep Montana snow for the barn.

Billy saw Bran and Charles standing near the entrance, but neither the Marrok or his younger son said anything when they approached, so they followed the others into the barn. The simple structure was full of wolves, pack and visitors both, and had a horseshoe shaped line of hay bales on three sides set up around an empty central space, like a stage in a theater. Seeing it brought a sick feeling to his stomach. This was where the attempted Changes would take place, when the time came.

“Billy!” Cecilia hurried over to him, leaving the group of nervous humans she had been standing with. Other candidates for the Change. So Bran had asked them here, as well. He enfolded his mate in a hug, drawing the scent of her hair deep into his lungs. She looked up at him, concern on her face when he finally pulled back a little. “Do you know what’s going on?” she asked.

He shook his head. “We felt Bran call us from town, but no. We’ll just have to wait and see what he wants.”

Billy looked to Edward. His Alpha nodded, and led them over toward a knot of visitors to talk. He recognized the Emerald City pack Alpha, Angus, though most of Billy’s focus was on the rest of the room. Their relationship with the Seattle wolves was a cordial, if distant one, and there was no threat here. The same was not necessarily true of the rest of the wolves present. The Marrok hadn’t called in his whole pack. There were about seventy wolves in Aspen Creek who called Bran their personal Alpha, now, but not all of them were steady or stable enough for a gathering like this. Billy suspected those wolves had been told to stay home. Nor did he spot Anna or feel the Omega’s soothing presence anywhere among the crowd. That boded ill for whatever Bran had planned. Even after the little time he had spent around her, Billy couldn’t imagine the vital young woman _not_ involving herself unless Bran had made her stay away.

More wolves trickled in from outside, and Billy could hear more vehicles arriving. One arm around his wife, he listened to Edward’s quiet conversation with Angus with half an ear while he watched the newcomers. One vehicle parked almost directly outside the doors, and a minute later the tension level inside skyrocketed when Charles entered, herding three shamefaced, half-naked men before him. They moved with the stiffness of cold and a recent Change, and made no attempt to raise their eyes or break away as they shuffled to the center of the open area. Space opened magically around Charles and his three charges. The big man radiated displeasure, and no one wanted to get caught in the line of fire.

“Who are they?” Cecilia asked quietly at his side.

Billy frowned at the trio, whom Charles had made kneel shivering on the plank floor before him. “Don’t know,” he admitted. “I don’t recognize any of ‘em, though I’ve seen ‘em around the motel. They ain’t part of the Marrok pack, they’re here with somebody who wants to Change, like us.”

“I wonder what happened,” his mate murmured.

“We won’t know until Bran decides to show his hand,” Billy said. He wouldn’t criticize the Marrok, no matter what, though he did not care much for showmanship. However Bran chose to run things, he was fair minded and just. Those three wolves bearing the brunt of Charles’ gaze deserved whatever punishment they were going to get.

A snarl near the doorway turned Billy’s attention back that way, and he had to resist the temptation to step back when two more wolves entered, one in human form, one not. He knew the man by reputation only, but with his skin like sun warmed teak, dark hair and eyes, and the proud nose and handsome features, it could only be the Moor. He looked like a young man in his early twenties, but it was a lie. The Moor was centuries old, and dangerous. The wolf who paced close at his side was a scrawny, half-grown pup, smaller than any other werewolf Billy had ever seen, and female. Something about her nagged at his memory. Cecilia let out a little gasp.

“That’s Kara!” she exclaimed quietly, and Billy recalled something he’d heard of the little girl who had survived an attack at age ten, the youngest person anyone could recall having been Changed. That would have been several years ago, though she had come to live with the Marrok only in the past few months. Kara also lived at the Marrok’s house, so all the candidates would know her. “Is that blood?” his mate asked.

It was. He nodded. The pup’s fur was a bloody mess on one side, and Billy could smell it, though there was no lingering scent of injury. A small hurt, then, that had already healed. He felt Bran’s pack respond with anger and anticipation, and shared a glance with Edward over Cecilia’s head. It didn’t take much to put the pieces together with the kneeling wolves and the injured pup in the room. Someone was probably going to die today. That did not explain the Moor’s presence, however. Why the wolf who called himself Asil had decided to involve himself in these affairs remained a mystery, and one Billy was not keen to poke at.

The outer doors shut with a hollow boom, and Bran’s power flushed though the building, bringing with it absolute silence.

“Take a seat, please,” Bran asked them simply.

The milling crowd resolved itself into an orderly audience. There were more people than the hay bales could seat. The wolves who couldn’t find seating on the hay simply sat on the wooden plank floor. Billy took his mate to a spot Edward had saved for them on one of the bales, grateful when Cecilia sat on the floor and curled up against his legs. She was less likely to attract anyone’s attention there. Safer. He rested one hand protectively on her shoulder. They all watched Bran as he walked soberly into the center of the room, facing his audience.

“Today, I come before you to render justice,” he said. “For this reason, I have asked you and your candidates to gather here today. So that those who wish to be wolves can see what that truly means. These gentlemen were found hunting as wolves in my territory without my permission.” He paused to let them all think about that, leaving the silence for exactly long enough. Bran had always had a wicked sense of timing.

“The penalty for hunting without invitation upon my lands is one thing,” he said. “That their prey was one of mine upon my lands is another.”

He strolled past the three kneeling men without looking at them. He turned like any good actor, into the audience rather than away from them. He took time to let his eyes meet, however briefly, the gaze of all the wolves in the room. His attention drove the gaze of everyone—human or not—to the ground. The effect was almost eerie. Billy might not care for the theatrics, but he could not dispute their effectiveness. He and Edward stared at the ground just like everyone else.

Then Bran turned his focus to the trespassers. “Eric,” he said. “Were you under orders?”

The werewolf addressed bit his lip until it bled in an effort not to speak.

“Eric?” Bran’s voice was gentle, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t compelling.

“Yes.”

“Cole’s orders?”

Eric’s skin flushed down his cheekbones as he ground his teeth. “Yes.”

“Hatchard Cole is their Alpha,” Bran said. “He chose to stay in Alaska and sent these three with Eric’s brother, who is a candidate.” He paused. “Eric’s wife is in Alaska under the _protection_ of Hatchard Cole.”

Eric opened his mouth to say something, but Bran beat him to it. “He was sent here originally to tell me that Cole is taking all of Alaska, and that I could give my permission, or he’d just take it. When Cole wasn’t happy with my reply, he told his wolves to make trouble.”

Bran smiled. “What he doesn’t know is that there are eight packs in Alaska, not three.” He checked his watch. “Excuse me. What he did not know until right about now—is that there are eight packs in Alaska. It is a big state. Silver Pete and the rest of the Alphas are reminding him that he is due so much of it, and no more.”

Billy blinked. He knew about Silver Pete, but that old wolf was supposed to have died over a century previous. Billy had still been living in Aspen Creek under the Marrok’s gaze the last time he’d heard about Silver Pete’s exploits.

No one said a word, but a frisson of excitement traveled through the barn. Bran tilted his head and listened to the electric silence. He breathed in and out twice. When he spoke, his voice dropped into a husky bass. His wolf rode high in his eyes, and the audience flinched back as one.

“If Asil had not stopped these idiots before they hurt Kara worse, I would have killed these men and Cole as well. I owe it to Asil that I have options.” He took a step back and turned subtly, focusing his attention back on the three wolves the Moor had brought in. “I think these men need a change of pack.” His voice was thoughtful. “We’ll keep you here a month or so to explain proper manners. Then I’ll move you someplace suitable. Your brother, Eric, I think should wait until next year before he seeks to be Changed. If he still would like to Change, when tempers are cooler, he may ask again. I need not tell you that if you attempt to Change him on your own, your life is forfeit.”

_And I will know._

Eric jerked his head up to Bran’s, then quickly away. The men with him just shrank. The scent of their fear rose rich in the air. Knowing Bran could talk in your head was a completely different thing than having him do it. Bran nodded at Charles. Charles looked at the prisoners and smiled. It was the sort of smile that said “I’d rather rip you to little pieces, but my father says I can’t—yet”. Billy barely contained a shudder of his own. He’d been on the wrong end of that smile before, but that had been a long, long time ago. It still wasn’t enough to make him forget.

“Up,” Charles told them. Then he pointed to the door and followed them out.

Bran waited until the door closed behind him. There was a long moment of silence where no one moved, then the Moor spoke.

“Can you give her a chance?” He asked, referring to the young wolf leaning hard on his leg. “Let her try?”

The other wolves present began to murmur as Bran’s failure to dismiss them implied that there was more business at hand than they’d seen so far. Cecilia looked up at Billy, but he just shook his head. He could guess what was coming next, and it wasn’t going to be pretty. The little wolf rolled her eyes up at the Moor and whined pitifully. He put a hand on her head, and the tension in the room began to climb.

“Let me help,” the Moor said.

Another wolf, who had been staring too hard at the pup even before Bran had made his grand entrance, came to his feet. “Last year on the twentieth of October, I killed my mate. For thirty years she was my wife. She asked to be Changed, and after a year as a wolf, she could not shift from one form to another without my help.”

The man’s words, Billy’s deepest fear aside from outright losing his wife to death, made a low moan catch in his throat. He didn’t let it out, even when he felt Cecilia stiffen against his leg. Edward’s hand gripped his forearm in silent support. His Alpha was not one overly given to displays of contact or affection, but he gave what his wolves needed, when they needed it. It was the reason he had come with them to Aspen Creek.

The speaker said nothing more, nor did he have to.

A second wolf stood up. “Three children,” he said. “Three children of four I killed. One died a week after the Change because he was uncontrollably violent, and not even the Marrok could help. I killed him before Bran was forced to. One I killed when he attacked his human family. One I killed on his anniversary date because he could not control his shift.”

The pup leaning on the Moor’s leg cringed and started to shake.

A third wolf stood up, Angus, whom Edward had been speaking to earlier. He was not a big man, but he didn’t need to be. “The laws are right, Bran Cornick. That is why we have always supported you.” He bowed his head, and Billy got the sense that what he said hurt him to speak. “Thirteen is not fair—we all know that. But fair is not an option when you are a werewolf. We cannot afford to ignore the laws that have allowed us to survive. You and I both remember different times, Bran. I do not want a return of those old times. Justice, for us, cannot contain mercy because we cannot afford it.”

He was being honest. They all were. None of them had spoken anything other than the truth. Billy clamped his jaws shut. There was no need to speak of the deaths he had seen, had participated in because some new wolf could not control themselves. All of them had stories like the ones who had spoken.

In the center of the space, the Moor spoke again, his voice quiet but clear. “It has always been acceptable for wolves to receive such aid that does not involve pack bonds or magic in order to pass the test.”

And suddenly Billy understood why the Omega wolf, the one who could fix all of this, was not present. Having Anna help Kara change could be viewed as cheating. Neither could Bran as her Alpha call her human form out of her wolf, or another wolf change and try to get the girl to follow. She had to, _had to_ , do it on her own, or her life was forfeit. She had already had three years as a wolf, more than any of the initiates here today would get if they survived the initial Change.

“Yes,” agreed Bran.

“I’ll be right back,” the Moor said, and leaned down to whisper in the pup’s ear. Billy was too far away to catch what he said to her. He straightened up and louder, told her. “Stay here, I’ll be right back.”

He started out of the room, and the first wolf who’d stood up said, “So we all wait on you?”

The Moor turned and looked at the upstart, who flinched. “You are so anxious to kill her that you cannot wait ten minutes?” He didn’t bother saying anything else, just turned on his heel and strode out of the door.

Anger gathered like a thundercloud in his wake, spurred on by the mouthy speaker. “You can’t expect-!” he began before Bran’s gaze snapped to him.

“Silence.”

The wolf shut up. In the quiet that followed, Billy sucked in a slow breath. The Moor had some idea, some plan to save that hapless pup. Maybe he wasn’t the monster so many stories made him out to be, if he could care for a child caught up in a mess not of her own making.

Minutes ticked slowly by, but this time, no one spoke. Bran stayed where he was as if rooted to the spot, and the little wolf crept in slow motion to huddle at Bran’s feet. Her protector might well turn executioner if she could not manage to shift on her own, but the pup had nowhere else to go. Charles returned before the Moor did, and though Billy would not claim to be an expert at reading the other wolf’s expressions, he thought Charles was not happy with Bran. Precisely why was up for debate. Perhaps he had been sent to deal with the troublemakers so Bran and the Moor could do battle over the pup’s fate without his interference. Billy wasn’t fool enough to speak up and ask.

The Moor returned with a rose in one hand, and a guitar in the other. The Marrok’s gaze went to the instrument.

“Yes, I know,” Asil said. “Your guitar. Also, you play it better than I do. But I promised Devon I would play her a song for him.” He looked down at the miserable little wolf. “He told me music helped him.” And then, with no consideration for the reactions of every wolf in the audience, he crouched down to her level. “Devon has not taken human form in my presence for a hundred years. He did tonight because he is worried about you. He thought it would help if I play a song I played to his daughter a long time ago.” He put the rose on the ground in front of her. “I want you to close your eyes, smell the rose. Remember what I told you. Listen to the music, and let Kara come out to play.”

The pup gave him a long look. He let her hold his gaze, and said simply, “Trust me.”

She put her nose on the flower and took a deep breath. There was a wave of sound from the assembled werewolves, and the Moor’s gaze lifted, irritation on his features, but the expression slipped away when another wolf trotted into the barn. This one had not been present before, and came in his animal shape, not as a man. His head was tipped low, eyes down, and he carried a blanket in his jaws. The newcomer dropped his burden on the young wolf. He looked up to Bran without meeting his Alpha’s gaze, let his eyes trail over Charles, then the Moor.

“Thank you,” Asil murmured, and spread the blanket over the pup. It took Billy a moment to realize that the girl, not raised among them, might not be comfortable Changing in front of a room filled with werewolves, most of whom were men. It had been a long time since most of them had experienced any shred of modesty.

The wolf ducked his head, hesitated, then licked Kara’s face. Then he turned and trotted out of the building, not quite running away. The Moor sat on the ground beside the young wolf and strummed the guitar. He glanced up at the Marrok. “It’s out of tune.”

“You are wasting time,” said the wolf who had had to kill his wife. “You’re just making it harder on her.”

“I said silence.” Bran’s voice didn’t have to be loud to be effective. To the Moor, he said, “New strings. They take awhile to break in.”

The Moor tuned the high E string until he seemed satisfied with it. He played diddles, bits of nonsense tunes without settling into any single piece for a few minutes, but then the chords started to come together. He played through the chorus twice before he sang the first verse. The Moor didn’t have Bran’s voice, but he could carry a tune. The song was in Spanish, and though it wasn’t one Billy had heard before, he spoke the language himself.

It was a very long and silly song, more about the sound of the words than the meaning. Each verse a medley of compliments that sounded like they were addressed to a woman, but the chorus made it clear that it was addressed to a flower instead. Though the circumstances were dire, Billy felt a grin growing on his face. How ridiculous, that one of the world’s most ancient and feared werewolves would sit on a barn floor and sing silly songs about roses to a little lost wolf, trying to coax her into changing her form. It made him think better of the man. The pup under the blanket had quit shivering.

When Asil finished the chorus, he sang the first verse in English, translating on the fly. When he couldn’t find a word fast enough, he used the Spanish word and kept going. It worked, adding humor. On the second verse, Bran joined him. Sometimes, Bran found a different English word than the Moor did—sometimes it was a better one.

Just before the started the second chorus, Asil leaned down, and said “Now, _chika_. Try now.” He didn’t put any particular force into his voice, nothing any of those watching could object to. There was no magic, no command, just words and hope.

The pup sighed—and began to change.

He had done it with nothing more than music and a rose. The little wolf’s sigh was echoed by more than a few. No one was going to die today. It took her a long time to Change, and the Moor kept playing until she finished. There were tears on his face, and Billy thought he knew how the man felt.

The girl clutched the blanket around her shoulders and sat up when she could speak. “It was a magical rose, like you said,” the child told him, her voice hushed with awe and the rawness of the Change.

Bran’s eyebrows shot up. Several of the wolves in the audience came to their feet at her words.

Asil lifted a haughty brow. “There is magic in a rose in winter,” he said. “If only because it is a rose in winter.” He smiled at the pup who was now a girl again. “But that change you accomplished yourself.”

The Marrok let out a breath that was not quite a sigh. “We’re done here,” he said, his voice carrying dismissal. A sense of relief swept the gathered wolves. Murmurs rose again again while people began making their way to the door.

Cecilia lingered with Billy and Edward. Billy would have kept her from seeing today’s violence if he’d had a choice, but Bran was right. His sentiments toward his wife aside, Cecilia needed to truly see them at their worst, to know there were packs who thought nothing of harassing or killing children to further their own goals. To know that even if she survived the Change, she might not make it. Many didn’t.

“That was awful,” Cecilia murmured, she was shivering, but Billy didn’t think it was from the cold. The barn was unheated, but so many werewolves in close proximity meant the chill didn’t penetrate far from the doors.

“You still wanna be a werewolf, darlin’?” Billy asked, letting some of the bleakness the Moor’s singing hadn’t chased away trickle into his voice. Not-quite-six-years of marriage wasn’t enough. It wasn’t nearly enough.

Cecilia was quiet for a long moment. “I do,” she finally answered. “Even knowing the risks, knowing what can happen… I still have to try, Billy.”

He closed his eyes and tugged her into a hug, resigning himself to whatever the fates brought them. “All right,” he replied.

She pulled back to look up at him, oblivious of the other wolves around them, some watching with curiosity. “All right?”

Billy nodded, swallowing down a pang of sadness. “You’ve seen what’s in store if you become one of us. If you can still face that willingly, I ain’t gonna try to stop you.”

Cecilia reached up to touch his face, and he bent to kiss her. He was glad that she couldn’t sense the melancholy in his heart, that he did his best to keep hidden. It was still four days until the Changing ceremony, and he felt as though he were saying goodbye already. She gave him an odd look when he pulled back.

“You’re acting strange,” she told him, and then looked to his Alpha. “Edward, don’t let him do anything stupid,” Cecilia said. “Please,” she added belatedly, since Alpha wolves did not take orders well.

Edward smiled dryly. “He won’t.”

“Charles’ll eat me if I do,” Billy added, only half joking. Some things, not even an Omega wolf could fix. He loved how young Cecilia made him feel, but he was an old, old wolf. Perhaps not as old as some, not like Bran or the Moor, or even Edward, but old enough to feel his years when he held his fragile mate in his arms. It was perilous to give old things like him something to love. He took solace in the fact that if things went wrong, there were wolves on hand who could and would limit the damage he might do if he lost control.

“That would upset Anna,” Cecilia replied. “So don’t do it.” It was cute how she thought she could order him around. She went up on her toes and kissed him again, firmly. “I love you. I’ve got to go back to the house with the others now. See you soon?”

“See you,” Billy agreed softly. “I love you, too.” He watched her walk away to rejoin a few of the other candidates heading back to Bran’s house. The Marrok and the Moor still stood over the little girl who had managed her Change at last, but the rest of the wolves were filtering out.

“Time to go,” Edward murmured, and Billy nodded in assent. They had seen what the Marrok wanted them to see, and there was no reason to linger. There were only a few more days to wait, and then what would happen, would happen.

* * *

 

The day of the Changing ceremony had dawned bright, cold, and clear. A fresh layer of powder had fallen the night before, leaving the whole world covered in crisp, pristine snow. It was beautiful, and Cecilia did her best to drink it in. It might be the last thing of beauty she ever saw, though she refused to believe that. If she had to have a last sight, she would have preferred a different sort of beauty to gaze on, like perhaps her husband’s lovely sculpted butt. That irreverent thought warmed and buoyed her all of the walk to the pole barn where the ceremony was to take place.

The Marrok had spent the past two weeks talking to all of the candidates, separately and together. Cecilia knew he was judging them, gauging their readiness, their chance of survival. Even with care, less than half of them were likely to survive the brutal mauling necessary to turn human to werewolf. Three of those who had arrived at the beginning of the two week trial period had already been sent home, gently informed they were not ready, and to ask again the next year.

A fourth candidate had been sent home for different reasons. He was the brother of one of the Alaskan wolves who had attacked Kara, the Marrok’s ward. Bran had required he put off the Change for at least another year because of their actions. Those three were housed in the cells in the Marrok’s basement now. Here, they truly were cells, not safe rooms like the Bow River pack maintained. It wasn’t a thought Cecilia liked entertaining, though she understood the necessity.

There was no turning back, Cecilia knew that. Bran had given them all one last chance to back out early this morning. They could turn and walk out the door, and someone would be waiting to take them back to their sponsors so they could leave. The catch was backing out meant a three year wait, minimum, before you would be allowed to try the Change again, and much more intensive counseling. One older woman had taken the Marrok up on the offer, and left. No one else had. For better or worse, when this day came to a close, they would either be wolves or they would be dead.

Walking into the pole barn pushed everything but the current event from her mind. It looked the same as it had a few days previous, though there were less people present this time, milling in small groups scattered around the hay bale seating. The quiet murmur of conversation filled the cavernous space. Swallowing a flutter of nerves, she looked for her husband and his Alpha. She spotted them across the room, and even at a distance, Cecilia could see that Billy was struggling. His big frame was one knot of tense muscle, though he had his head bowed to the Calgary Alpha. Edward was speaking to him, but Cecilia was too far away to hear them over the crowd. She saw the older wolf clasp her husband’s shoulder briefly as she worked her way around the clusters of wolves and initiates to get to them.

Edward let his hand fall, and gestured toward the barn’s doors. He didn’t look angry or upset, but he rarely showed emotion the way Billy did. The Alpha was a much harder man for Cecilia to read. Her husband turned and stalked out, scattering other wolves in his wake. She frowned when he snarled at someone who came too close, but Billy didn’t stop. Since she couldn’t just bull her way through the crowd, it took her longer to get to Edward. By the time she reached the Alpha, Billy was already gone.

“Edward?” Cecilia asked, trying to keep the hesitation out of her voice. “Is everything all right?”

“As right as can be. Billy needed time to cool down.”

He gave her a grave smile. Edward was not a tall or physically imposing man. His hair was dark and his features were ordinary and not exotic or striking like her husband’s, but they did not need to be. He carried the charisma and mantle of power of an Alpha wolf that she responded to even without being one of them.

Cecilia shot a glance toward the open doors. “Will he be okay?” she asked the Alpha, more worried for her husband than herself.

“That remains to be seen,” Edward answered, calm and collected. He offered her his arm, the same old fashioned gesture she was accustomed to from Billy. She took it to be polite, and let him lead her a little away from the others. She knew Edward as well as any human married to one of his wolves could. Maybe a little better, since she was his second’s mate. “Billy is stronger than he gives himself credence for, but this is difficult for him. It is better he not be here to witness the act itself.”

She nodded slowly. Part of her had thought he would be here, but she knew it would be hard for him. Billy flipped out any time she was hurt or in danger, and she was deliberately putting herself in harm’s way. “I understand,” she told Edward. He patted her hand where it rested on his arm. His confidence _was_ a good deal more reassuring than Billy’s badly hidden concern.

“Your wolf is still having problems?”

Cecilia glanced up, recognizing Charles’ voice. For such a big man, he moved with cat-footed grace common in wolves. She knew Billy was afraid of him. Almost all the wolves she had ever met admitted they feared the Marrok’s younger son, except Anna. Charles was imposing in the same way Billy was imposing, but more so. _Much_ more so. Edward’s pack had a healthy respect for their second, but they didn’t fear him the way wolves feared Charles.

“He knows his mate will be grievously injured at best today,” Edward replied. “Much as he accepts Cecilia’s decision, it is still difficult for him. I sent him outside where his fears will have less impact on those gathering here.”

Charles nodded. “Were it my mate standing up today, I wouldn’t be at my calmest, either,” he replied. He paused for a long moment and then added, “Billy takes after my brother in many ways. Samuel mentored him as a new wolf, and a few habits rubbed off. Sometimes he feels first, and thinks second.” It was the longest single speech she had ever heard from him, even during the dinner they had shared with him and Anna. He might be big and scary, Cecilia decided, but that didn’t necessarily mean Charles was unkind. He glanced up, and his eyes briefly lost their focus. “Anna will find him,” he told them.

“Thank you,” Edward said. “Whatever the outcome of today’s ceremony, I am not keen to lose my second.”

Cecilia felt better knowing the Omega wolf was on hand to calm down the more agitated wolves. She had made her choice and she would stand by it, but she didn’t want Billy to suffer for her decision.

A hush started in the wolves and humans nearest the barn doors, and rolled slowly through the gathered crowd. Both Edward and Charles fixed their attention on that spot, and a smallish gray werewolf with a splash of white on the tip of his tail trotted though the path that magically opened before him, heading for the center of the room.

“It’s time,” Charles murmured, and left them to go and stand with the wolf who must be his father.

Beside Edward, Cecilia sucked in a breath and pulled her spine straight. This was it. The questions and tests were all over. When the ceremony was through, she’d either be a wolf, or she wouldn’t be alive to care.

* * *

 

Even in the relative quiet of the Marrok’s now-empty house, the tension that had gripped Aspen Creek for the past two weeks was thick enough to taste. Leah had bugged out, opting to take Kara to Missoula for a shopping trip rather than stick around and deal with the inevitable fallout of the Changing ceremony. No matter how carefully Bran acted, people would die today, and their loved ones would mourn. No matter how many survived as wolves, a number of those would be dead in less than a year: too violent, unable to control the wolf, and too dangerous to be allowed to live.

Part of Anna was angry with the Marrok’s mate for abandoning them when she ought to have been participating, but it was better than further traumatizing poor Kara. Anna didn’t want to be there either, but she _needed_ to be there. Knowing what was happening in the barn just up the hill didn’t make her feel any easier about her job. She had come to Aspen Creek a little under a year ago, just after last year’s ceremony. This was the first time she would see how people became werewolves officially, unlike her own horrible Change.

Charles was up there with his father, right in the middle of things, keeping order and collecting more ghosts on his conscience. He was the one who told her to stay at the house. If his father had given the order, Anna would have disobeyed, but it was Charles at her side on the rare occasions when the nightmares came. It still left her grumpy and with nothing to pass the time. The Change was horrible and frightening because it had to be. Anna knew she could make to better in some small way, if her mate would let her do her job rather than wait behind. She was of half a mind to go up there and remind him that Omega meant not following orders, but he had asked. It wasn’t the werewolf way, wasn’t Charles’ way, to simply ask.

A gentle tug on the mate bond she shared with Charles made her look up from the book she had been pretending to read.

 _The Bow River Alpha says Billy is still struggling with his mate’s decision,_ Charles voice came to her across their bond. _He’s a strong wolf, and his anxieties could disturb the others here. Can you help?_

Relief washed through her, carrying peace in its wake. Her pack needed their Omega today. Anna barely stopped for her coat before she followed the bond up the hill, basking in the warmth of her husband’s love for her. He’d asked her to stay home to spare her any hurt, not because he doubted her courage. From what she’d seen of them at dinner, Billy and Cecilia weren’t far from the same. Charles might still harbor doubts about Billy, but Anna didn’t. She had seen how much he loved his wife. He wouldn’t disrupt things because he was angry about her trying the Change. He was scared. Dominant wolves had a hard time with fear.

She found Billy standing in the snow outside the barn. He faced away from the building, but he hadn’t gone far from it. His coat hung open, and there was sweat beading on his dark skin despite the icy chill. The wind had pulled strands of long black hair from his ponytail to whip unheeded around his face. The man’s eyes were screwed shut, an expression of agonized concentration on his features. It took her only an instant to recognize that he was fighting his wolf. He hadn’t begun to shift, but it was perilously close to the surface.

Charles had warned her that Billy had a little Native magic in his blood. He didn’t possess it to the same degree her husband did, but it made his shifts unusually swift, much like Charles’ were. His Alpha must have recognized the signs and sent him outside. Sometimes a dominant wolf took others with him when he lost control, and she remembered that Bran had said Billy was strong enough to be Alpha, had he cared to be one. He might well outrank some of the others here today in dominance.

Anna cleared her throat, not that a werewolf would need the warning. He would have had her scent on the wind. “Good morning, Billy.”

His eyes snapped open and met hers. They were too bright, too deep a green to be human. Anna arched a brow and waited for him to decide it wasn’t worth attacking. He didn’t have the power to frighten her. Charles would burst through the wall of the barn and pin him face down in the snow before he took a full step toward her, if it came to that, and he was teaching her to defend herself, too.

“Miss Anna.” Billy’s voice was deeper than it should have been, but he didn’t move. “M’control’s not good today,” he apologized roughly.

“I understand.” Anna cocked her head slightly. “Would it help if we took a walk?”

Billy stood still for a handful of heartbeats, just breathing. Then his gaze lifted, and he glanced at the barn over his shoulder, sorrow on his face. She could almost feel the indecision tearing at him. Finally, he turned away. “All right.” The wolf was still close to the surface, but it had pulled back a little.

When she started back down the road toward the house, he followed without a word of protest. The snow was already too deep to easily wander the woods on two legs without snowshoes. She and Charles hadn’t been out with snowshoes since the witch had tried to steal Asil. Anna growled a little and burrowed into her coat. Behind her, Billy stopped short at the noise. She could feel his wolf watching her from the man’s eyes.

“Miss Anna?” There was uncertainty in his voice.

“Sorry. I was just thinking about snowshoes.” Anna waved his concern away. “It’s a long story.”

“Ah.” Billy didn’t sound convinced.

“The last time I was out for a walk in snow like this, Charles and I took snowshoes,” she explained. “I mean, a walk on two legs. We ran into a witch in the woods.” Anna’s eyes narrowed with the memory. “I dealt with her.”

“Bad business,” he said. “Heard about that.” He gave her a searching look. “You’re a bitty little thing to have taken care of a witch like that.” Billy’s words were carefully noncommittal, not quite disbelieving. He probably thought, like most of them did, that Bran and Charles had really done the hard work.

“The Marrok and I both like to be underestimated,” Anna told him archly.

He gave a snort that was almost a laugh. “Understatement of the century, darlin’. Bran Cornick was one of the first wolves I ever met outside my father’s pack, and it weren’t until weeks later that I learned who and what he really was.” He wasn’t speaking in monosyllables anymore. That was good.

Anna gave a wry smile. “The first time I spoke with him, I thought he was a secretary. I was so scared when he told me who he really was, I almost hung up on him.”

“He’d’ve called you back. Alphas don’t like it when you hang up on them, and Bran’s top of the heap when it comes to that.”

“He’d have tried. He didn’t even know I existed, and I couldn’t afford a phone of my own. I was borrowing a neighbor’s.”

“Ahh.” There was a note of understanding in his voice this time. “We heard about the mess in Chicago, and that Charles put a stop to it. You made that happen.”

“Hardly,” she laughed. “I was terrified of my own shadow. I don’t know what would have happened if Charles hadn’t been on the way.” Justin had burst in the next morning, early. If Charles hadn’t been on that flight… A shiver that had nothing to do with the cold went down her spine. “Nothing good.”

“You helped alert the Marrok to what was happenin’, though, if I’m rememberin’ right,” Billy murmured. “There were some signs that pointed to things goin’ wrong in Chicago, but you put the last piece in the puzzle. My pack weren’t involved in any of it, but I had some of the news from Edward, my Alpha, later on.”

Anna shook her head. “When I told Bran what was going on, he’d already found out. Charles was on his way long before I called. I cursed myself all the way to the airport for being a fool, and it turned out to be the best thing to happen to me since—you know.” She glanced at him. “The Change.”

He sucked in a deep breath, and his eyes glinted bright green again for a moment. “Sometimes it works out okay in the end,” Billy admitted. “Sometimes. Even for those of us who didn’t ask for it.”

“Charles is the best thing that ever happened to me. I wish my Change could have been different.” Anna looked back over her shoulder through the trees. She couldn’t see the barn, but she could feel her mate’s presence, and the Marrok’s too. “But that’s over and done with now.”

“Bran’s way is better than my father’s was.” Billy shook himself like a dog shedding water. “I’m too old for this. Too many years alone. I can’t be alone like that anymore. Having Cecilia spoiled me for it.”

“Pack, a good pack, means never being alone. I’ve learned that here.”

“Different kind of alone.” He smiled sadly. “Cecilia is… She’s not just my wife, she’s my mate, me and my wolf both. Most werewolves, they marry someone human, and hopefully given time the wolf comes to accept the partner the human half’s chosen. Ain’t to say I never had a dalliance in my long years, but Cecilia’s the only one who’s ever gotten through my defenses. It’d be like… Imagine if you were in danger of losin’ Charles.”

The witch. The fae. She had come so close, too close, both times. “I don’t have to imagine.”

Surprise showed clear on Billy’s face. He didn’t know, none of them did. They all thought Charles was an indestructible super wolf. “Then maybe you do know how I’m feelin’ about now,” he allowed.

“You’re afraid the Change won’t take.”

He nodded, and she saw his throat convulse. “She’s strong and she’s stubborn, but sometimes that ain’t enough. Or it could take, but if she can’t control her wolf, I’d have to…” Billy trailed off, his gaze falling to the snow. “I don’t want to lose my mate. Havin’ to kill her… That’d be even worse.”

“Bran wouldn’t let her try if he was convinced of her death,” Anna said quietly.

Billy shook his head. “No, I know that, but it ain’t a guarantee of success, either. More’n half those people won’t leave that barn alive.”

“My first Alpha’s mate was going age-crazy.” Anna stared ahead at the Marrok’s house. “He thought an Omega would keep her sane. Charles won’t tell me how many they think Leo killed before he succeeded with me.”

“People do crazy stupid things for love,” Billy said quietly. “Wolves, too. I’m sorry, Miss Anna. Ain’t sayin’ what he did was right. My father was probably age-crazed when I was Changed, too. What he did, he was doin’ for power, though, not love. Not that it makes it any better.”

Up the hill behind them, in the direction of the barn, someone howled. The voice wasn’t familiar, not pack, but the tone was unmistakably mournful. Someone’s candidate hadn’t made it. Billy went still, and then shivered all over like a fly-stung horse. A low moan escaped him, and he dragged his fingers through his hair, struggling for control again. Anna decided not to acknowledge it. That wouldn’t help Billy.

“I was still in college when it happened. I was a baby.” Anna gave him a crooked smile. “To most of you, I still am. If I can make it, so can she.”

It took him a handful of heartbeats to calm down enough to answer her. She could have pulled on her gift and made him calm down, but it would be better to get him to do it on his own. Billy didn’t quite have Charles’ ruthless control, but he had a dominant’s discipline

“Hope so,” he finally replied. “Best I can do. Don’t make me promises you can’t keep, Miss Anna, not even to spare my feelings.”

“She _can_ make it. Not will. Can.” Anna reached over and squeezed his hand. “And if she does, I’ll do everything I can to help her.”

Billy’s grip on her hand tightened to almost bruisingly painful, and then slackened as if he feared hurting her. “Thank you, Miss Anna,” he murmured, head bowed.

“You’re welcome.”

They stood there in the snow, hands clasped. It would have been odd for two unrelated humans, but not for werewolves. Touch was grounding and necessary. Anna felt his wolf grow calmer. She ignored her cold feet in the snow. This was more important. Noises reached them from the barn, and though Billy reacted to them, it was less pronounced than before. Depending on the outcome of today’s ceremony, the hard part might still be before them, but he wasn’t on the edge of losing control anymore. His wolf, if not wholly appeased, was at least quiescent for the moment.

“I’m cold,” she told him. “Let’s go inside. We can make cocoa.” There would be other wolves in need of comfort and reassurance before too much longer. Maybe they ought to make a giant pot of cocoa. It might help. Billy just nodded, and let her lead him the rest of the way to the Marrok’s house.

* * *

 

Anna’s presence helped lessen the nerve wracking agony of waiting. She had made him and herself mugs of hot chocolate, and then busied herself getting an industrial-sized stock pot of cocoa going. Unused to being fussed over by anyone but his wife, Billy had found himself bemusedly tolerant of the tiny woman’s behavior. Once he finished his mug, Billy let her order him around the Marrok’s neat, well appointed kitchen. There were few wolves he would have tolerated taking commands from, but in addition to being Omega, Anna was Charles’ mate, and he would not challenge Charles over anything.

She set him to chopping meat from the refrigerator for stew—his nose told him it was elk—and a second industrial-sized pot joined the first on the stove top. When he was finished with that task, Anna put him back to work assembling enough sandwiches to feed an army… or a couple dozen werewolves, whichever came first. He said little while he worked, using the tasks to keep his mind off of the ceremony and its outcome. Privately, Billy approved. Having hot food available would help keep tempers even, and soothe grieved hearts. It was the sort of thing the Marrok’s mate ought to have overseen, though he had not seen hide nor hair of Leah at all today. Maybe Bran had given his mate a different duty today. Either way, this was better than standing in the snow until his extremities took frostbite fighting with his wolf, who seemed to think that a suicidal charge at the Marrok was preferable to the possibility of losing Cecilia.

Busy hands helped the time pass. A few other wolves slipped in and out of the kitchen, looking for food or the same solace he had gotten from the Omega’s presence. Billy ignored them, concentrating on his work, at least until Charles showed up. He froze halfway through slathering a piece of bread with peanut butter when the big Indian came into the kitchen at a tightly controlled stalk, eyes flashing wolf golden. Billy watched warily while Charles gathered Anna tight in his arms, heedless of the spatters cooking for a crowd of werewolves had left on her clothing. Charles’ presence in the kitchen meant that the ceremony was over, for better or worse. Billy also realized that maybe after so much blood and death, Charles needed the peace Anna could give even more of the rest of them.

Billy stayed quiet and resumed stacking peanut butter and jelly sandwiches next to the pile of ham and roast beef. They had used up almost all the readily available meat in the refrigerator between the stew and the sandwiches, though Anna had pulled more out of the enormous freezer to thaw in the sink. He pretended not to notice while Anna fussed over and fed her husband. Even at the best of times, he had always steered clear of Charles, and though he was dying to ask, there was no way he could bring himself to interrupt the older wolf, not when he hadn’t even been there at the ceremony for his own wife, and he’d had to lean so hard on Anna himself. He understood now why those who had met her called the Omega wolf a gift. Without her, Billy wasn’t sure he would have made it through at all. His wolf was generally a patient, canny beast...until he wasn’t.

“She lived.”

He jerked his gaze up from sandwich making to meet Charles’ eyes, and dropped it again almost as quickly. Billy’s heart stuttered in his chest and his mouth worked soundlessly. He wondered if he had heard the other wolf right.

“Your wife, she survived, and her injuries are healing,” Charles added. “She’s one of us now.” His voice carried little inflection and Billy thought he sounded tired. Still, sharing that tidbit was an immense kindness that made Billy’s knees go weak in profound relief. He bowed his head to the other wolf.

“Thank you,” he murmured back, closing his eyes and letting his hands rest on the counter to combat the momentary rush of lightheadedness he felt knowing Cecilia was alive. He wasn’t sure to whom he addressed his thanks, whether to the Marrok and his son who had overseen the deed, or whatever deity watched over the affairs of werewolves and their mates. It was enough to know his Cecilia survived. The rest, he could take as it came.

Billy felt a hand touch his arm, and opened his eyes to see Anna there, a reassuring little smile on her face. “You see?” she said, “I told you she could make it.”

“You did,” he agreed. Billy sucked in a breath. “I… Can I-?”

“Stay,” Charles told him, with just enough force to make it a command. “Your Alpha is with her. She’s safe.”

Safe. He fixated on that word and finally nodded his assent. Charles hadn’t lied to him. If he said Cecilia was safe, Billy believed it. He knew what the Change involved, and that seeing Cecilia hurt would upset him, even though she was healing now. Anna patted his arm and drifted back to Charles’ side. The bigger man snaked an arm around his mate and pulled her close again.

Billy let his breath out in a sigh, and deliberately made himself go back to making sandwiches. If the ceremony was over and done with, there would be hungry, stressed out, agitated wolves to deal with in short order. Being near Anna kept him from hackling over that like he normally would. Instead, his focus was on Cecilia.

She had survived. She was _alive_. She had made it. Right now, that was all that mattered.

“Anna says I’ve judged you poorly,” Charles spoke suddenly, drawing Billy’s attention back to him. He risked a sidelong glance at the older wolf, but decided not to comment. It was safer not to backtalk Charles. “Maybe I’m just remembering the headstrong pup tagging after my brother better than the man you’ve come to be.”

Billy rolled his shoulders in a shrug. It was the closest he had ever heard to an apology from Charles. He tried not to let his dumbfoundedness show too clearly.

“You were stuck with me for a good half-century,” Billy ventured cautiously. “And I was a stubborn ass—if you’ll pardon the expression.”

“Yes, you were,” Charles agreed in that scary flat deadpan voice of his. Anna nudged her husband in the ribs with an elbow. And then perhaps the most frightening thing of all happened. Charles smiled. It was broad and sweet, and directed entirely at Anna, but it was a smile. Billy had never seen that expression on Charles before. He had been convinced the other man was incapable of it until that moment. It made him look more like his father than he usually did.

“Don’t let him yank your tail,” Anna admonished Billy with a smile of her own. “He’s a terrible kidder.”

“Ahh, uh huh,” Billy agreed faintly. He decided that sandwiches were safer than this new and previously unseen side of Charles. The Marrok’s hatchet man wasn’t supposed to have a sense of humor. Some shocks he really _was_ too old to take well. Sandwiches were definitely safer.

* * *

 

The moon painted the snowy woods in shades of black and silver, though her song was soft tonight. She wouldn’t call to the wolves in earnest for another week or more, but the Marrok organized the First Hunt before Changing became an earnest need for werewolf kind’s newest inductees. 

It was forbidden for wolves who were not members of the Marrok’s pack to hunt his lands without his permission. That had been driven home during Bran’s little demonstration a few days before the ceremony. For this, though, the wolves who had come as sponsors, whose candidates had survived the brutal mauling necessary to Change a person to a wolf, were allowed to join in. They gathered in the clear space before the pole barn. Three days had passed since the ceremony itself, and the place still smelled of blood and death. The visitors, the ones who were not pack, waited around the edges of the clear space in ones, twos, or threes, while the Marrok brought the newest wolves out to meet them.

They were skittering, high strung, nervous, aggressive creatures, full of the wolf’s instincts without the control they would hopefully develop as they learned what these new forms meant. Not all of them would, but some would settle, would find the balance necessary to maintain their fragile duality. Until then, they were driven to determine which among them reigned supreme. Claws flashed and fangs were bared in challenge.

One dun colored male snapped at the flanks of a delicate gray and white female who wandered too close, and she rounded on him with a growl and a sharp-toothed nip. The heavier-bodied male lunged, but his charge stopped abruptly when another wolf, a monstrous male marked black over a tawny golden belly, interposed himself between the combatants. The dun wolf immediately rolled in the snow, whining and showing his throat. A few of the others shied nervously, but the big newcomer ignored the wolf he had made to submit to butt heads with the little female instead.

 _Mate_ , he thought protectively and with an immense surge of satisfaction when she nuzzled his shoulder in return. The black and gold wolf herded her apart from the others, baring his teeth whenever another male ventured too close. The worries his other half had nursed seemed like morning dew evaporated by a warming sun, long gone and not worth considering. The bond they had shared even before she was one of them had roared to life the moment he touched her when she first healed from the Change. The completeness he felt when he was close to her fair took his breath away. His mate had survived, and she was beautiful and strong, everything he had always known her to be.

They were joined by a seal blue wolf with bright blue eyes. His Alpha. _Their_ Alpha, now. He bracketed the smaller female, protecting her other flank and the black and gold wolf, though larger, flashed the Alpha his throat in a show of respect. His mate followed suit a moment later. The Alpha nipped her until she went belly down in the snow, and then stepped back, satisfied with her show of submission. The black and gold wolf settled beside her and nuzzled her ears, content.

All around the packed snow of the clear space, similar reunions were taking place as other wolves found their loved ones. Not all the meetings were as happy as the black and gold wolf’s. There were snapping teeth and snarls as dominance fights played out around them. New wolves struggled with their instincts, learning what place they held in this new world. His mate watched them intently, but stayed by his side. She belonged to him, and he to her, and he knew his place already. There was no need for her to scrape out a place for herself. He would not let anyone touch her.

More wolves joined them, and the fighting died down. The Marrok was not a large wolf, all gray with his white tipped tail, but his size did not diminish the aura of command he carried. His mate paced at his side, pale gold and silver in the moonlight, haughty and beautiful, though the black and gold wolf had eyes for none but _his_ mate. Behind the Alpha pair came an enormous black footed red wolf, bigger even than the black and gold. _Charles_ he thought. Not-enemy, but not-friend either. Protector, guardian, enforcer, someone to be wary of, not to cross. The smallish female trotting beside him, however, was another story. Black as pitch and fair gambolling like a pup, Anna’s happiness and welcome was infectious. Snarls died away in the Omega’s presence.

The Marrok waited until he had the attention of every wolf present. Then he tipped his muzzle to the sky and howled. A joyous chorus answered him, a double handful of brand new wolves, and the older more seasoned wolves who’d brought them, along with those wolves of the Marrok pack who had chosen to participate. They sang of life, survival, and the hunt, crying to the moon waxing bright in the sky. And with a flash they were off.

Paws flew over the moon-silvered snow, and a fierce joy filled the black and gold wolf. Though he had come here fearing the worst, he had his mate running at his side for the first time, and she was his, forever. As if she had caught the stray thought, she nipped his shoulder, reminding him that he was as much _hers_. Packsong flowed through them, full of its own special magic, enhanced by the Omega’s presence. They followed their Alpha, who followed the Marrok, and for once, all was right and perfect with the world.

Tomorrow and each new day would bring their own challenges, but for now, the wolf let the thrill of the hunt carry them where it would, and was content.

* * *

 

**Fin**

 


End file.
